Cheap Tricks
by Seadragon
Summary: Numair Salmalin never came to Corus, there was nothing for him to go to. Instead, Numair headed for Rachia, where Thayet survives only by waitressing at the local pub, the Iron Gate. When the homeless mage comes in late one afternoon, he finds a friend in


**Title**: Cheap Tricks

**Author**: Seadragon

**Challenge**:

- Numair/Thayet

- Alanna dies/is dead

- Birds must be in the first sentence

- Rotten Apples must be mentioned

**Words**: 2254 words

**Summary**: The Lioness was never ambushed by Thayet and her group of orphans, because she didn't live that long. Numair Salmalin never came to Corus, there was nothing for him to go to. Corus fell to Duke Roger's plans, and Jonathon is dead. Tortall, in its state of total destruction, was taken over by Scanrans. Instead, Numair headed for Rachia, where Thayet survives only by waitressing at the local pub, the Iron Gate. When the homeless mage comes in late one afternoon, he finds a friend in the beautiful waitress.

- - - - -

Numair Salmalin had stepped off the boat from Carthaki to the sound of birds chirping. And now he had to wonder just where the birds had gone.

Each day since his arrival had been apart of the slow decline that his life had become. He wasn't sure if fleeing from Carthak had been the right choice. If given the choice to go back, he might not do it again. At least there he had a place to go after each day, a place to rest his weary bones.

Here, that was a hay stack, a pile of sacks, or, if he got really lucky, an abandoned building. There were a lot of these lining the roads of Rachia, but as with all things in this life, it was first come first serve. And even if you got there first and secured yourself a spot, there was no guarantee you would be allowed to keep it. 

These empty shells were the favorite hideouts for street fighters, and no one wanted to get in their way. He couldn't even hold a sword, let alone fight with one, so he didn't try. If they wanted his spot, they could have it. And away he would go again, to find somewhere preferably warm and dry to spend the night.

But warm and dry places were a luxury in this town if you had no money, and no weapons. And in some ways, he even preferred this to the sheltered life of Carthak. But even if he wanted to, which he did, oh how he did, he could never go back.

And he couldn't use his magic to stay alive and earn money, because then they could find him. That would be almost like shooting a signal flare over his head for all to see.

So he was stuck living in this hovel of a city, resorting to performing cheap tricks for tourists to earn a copper or two. A copper or two didn't buy much in this city though, perhaps a few rotten apples, fit only for a horse.

But it is surprising what a starving man will eat.

He burrowed deeper into his traveling cloak and closed his eyes. As he did, he repeated what had become his own personal motto over and over in his head until he fell asleep.

"_Tomorrow will be better. Tomorrow will be better._"

Maybe if he repeated it enough, it would come true.

- - - - -

The day dawned sunny and bright, just like every other day. Numair opened his eyes a crack with a groan. No matter how long he lived here, he would never get used to the way the light reflected off everything, no matter how tarnished or rough the surface. It was as though he was back in Orzone's Hall of Mirrors, with the light bouncing back and forth, with no perceivable exit. A man could go mad in there.

And perhaps that was what had gone wrong with him. After all, he had met his ex-friend several times in the labyrinth of shapes and colors. He had even planned a small part of his escape, whilst staring himself in the face, and not liking what he saw.

But how could he? A young man, dressed in bright, flashy clothing was always looking back. And that wasn't who he was, not really.

Slowly he got to his feet, and stretched as best he could in the cramped alleyway. Today was going to be a busy day. Perhaps busy enough to go to a pub for dinner. A merchant train from Galla was said to be arriving today, and he wanted to be first to greet them.

That was what he did nowadays. He entertained travelers. Him and every other person without even the amount of coins needed to fill a shot glass. And in Rachia, there were more of his kind of people than anyone else.

The streets were already bustling. His alley opened onto one of the main roads, and he could see the streaks of color as people ran past, eager to begin the day. Numair settled for a more relaxed pace, though he was so tall that he managed to go the same speed as the most.

From there he settled into his daily routine. He sought out rich travelers, and performed cheap tricks for their amusement, got tossed a coin or two, and moved on to the next group. This was the same as he had done for a long while now, almost as long as he had been in Rachia.

But that didn't mean he enjoyed it. No, he would much prefer to be doing great magics. But he had had to give that up when he left behind the university, his friends, and his life.

As he conjured a few white doves for a young noble couple, he scolded himself mentally.

"_Stupid. Stupid. Stupid._"

He knew he could think that all he wanted, but it wouldn't change anything. He had made his choice, and now he was going to pay for his folly. To think that he could thrive here, in this superficial country.

Well, he had shown himself, that was for sure. It wasn't a mistake he would make again. Not that he would ever have the chance to.

- - - - -

He had been right, today _had_ gone well. He had enough for a meal and a few drinks at one of the local pubs tonight. The merchants never came, but as summer was coming to an end, people were spending their last few days of warmth in the city before returning to their homes in the country.

Counting the day's catch in his hand, he made his way to a street that was lined with pubs. Looking up only briefly to check the name on the swinging sign, Numair walked into the first one he saw.

Its name was the Iron Gate, and it was a quaint establishment. A few tables and a bar, with a kitchen around back was all it had, but small was good. The fewer people, the less noise. And after being in the heart of the bustling city all day, he couldn't wait for a little peace and quiet.

Numair sat at the smallest wooden table, furthest from the door, and left the coins in a heap on it. He leaned back in his chair and surveyed his surroundings. Besides himself, there were two other dinners, eating together near the front. A slight girl with hair the color of a raven's feathers was setting steaming plates piled high with food in front of them.

He felt his mouth water when one of the men who had just been served put a bite into his mouth. It was all he could do not to start drooling. This would be the first proper meal he had had in a week or so, and he could hardly wait.

It was almost as though the waitress knew how hungry he was, she came directly to his table after taking the men's orders for a second, maybe third, round of drinks.

When he looked up, she was there, smiling as though this was her favorite thing in the world to do. And hey, for all he knew, it very well could be. "Hello there, my name is Thayet, and I will be serving you tonight."

Glancing out the window in front, Numair realized she was right, it was night. The dark seemed to have crept up on him while he was finishing up for the day, he had hardly noticed.

"What can I get you?" The bright smile was still on her face, but from the way she spoke, it was obvious she would not have been here if she had had the choice. He gave a half hearted attempt at a smile, and glanced at his pile of coins.

"Er, a lemonade please, and what's the special?" He had chosen to steer clear of alcohol upon his arrival. Being drunk would only make it harder to hang onto his money and find somewhere to sleep. And having a hangover the next morning certainly wouldn't help his cause. It was hard to act perky and cheerful, like you hadn't got a care in the world, with a pounding headache. He had learned that the hard way, after getting stone dead drunk trying to drown his sorrows a few days after his arrival.

After that he had decided lemonade, fruit juice, and water would do him just fine.

The waitress, Thayet, recited the specials, and he fought the urge to order one of each. If he was careful, he might be able to eat again tomorrow night, something that could never be overrated.

"I'll have the Shepherd's Pie please." He said, trying to keep the weariness out of his voice. This nice lady probably had enough troubles of her own without him dragging her down.

She smiled again, and went into the kitchen. The time between her departure and the arrival of his food seemed endless. When you haven't eaten properly in weeks, time tends to stretch.

When she set the hot food in front of him, he was hard pressed not to shovel it all into his mouth in one go. To keep himself from doing so, he reminded himself that the quicker he ate it, the quicker it was gone.

As it was, the chicken pie was gone all too soon for his liking. He ate the vegetables on the side of the plate just as quickly, and took a drink from his tankard of lemonade.

Thayet, seeing his plate was empty again, bustled over to take it away. "Would you like anything else sir?"

Looking wistfully at his diminished pile of coins, he shook his head. "No thank you, I'll just finish my lemonade and go."

She smiled again and took the plate away. He had to wonder if her face hurt from smiling so much, he knew his did after a long day of work. But tourists didn't pay gloomy entertainers, so you did your bit, looked cheery, and got your money.

Numair drank his lemonade as slowly as he could, but it too vanished before he felt he could really enjoy it. When Thayet came out again with the pitcher of lemonade, he shook his head. "Sorry, I can't afford it." It was incredibly embarrassing to tell this beautiful stranger this, but he had to.

She shook her head as well. "On the house." As she poured it, there was a genuine smile on her face. It was much more attractive to him than any fake smile she had given him up until now. "Do you mind if I-?" She indicated to the seat across from his.

When he shrugged, Thayet put the jug down on the table and sat.

They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, before the raven haired waitress turned to him. "What do you do?"

It was an innocent one, and it couldn't hurt to tell her. "I entertain travelers and nobles in the city. You know, simple conjuring and the like."

She leaned forward with a fascinated look on her face. "Oh! Like magic? I always enjoyed watching the performers at court when I was younger."

He nodded, and hid his puzzled look well. If she had been at court, in a palace, then what was she doing here, waitressing at a bottom end pub in Rachia? He may well never know, he couldn't exactly ask.

"Do you think you could show me some?" She asked eagerly. Numair smiled, he was so excited about something so small, something he had been doing everyday since he was a small child.

Thinking of what he could do that would please her, he settled on the rain of flower petals that he had done for young girls on their first trip to the city. It had always been a crowd favorite, and paid well. But this wasn't about money, this was about giving a poor waitress something to remember about this day.

As the pink rose petals drifted down from overhead, the look on her face was payment enough.

He glanced out the window again. The sky was as black as pitch. If he wanted to find somewhere to sleep before dawn, he would have to go know.

"I'm sorry, I've got to go." Numair told the enthralled young woman politely. He picked up his remaining coins and put them in his pocket. He had nearly enough, if he worked again tomorrow, he might be able to eat again. "I'll be back tomorrow night."

As he walked out of the Iron Gate, he had to smile.

Maybe not just cheap tricks after all.


End file.
